


Swotting Up

by geekmama



Series: Time of the Season [7]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Post-Episode: s04e03 The Final Problem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 03:02:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9528926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekmama/pseuds/geekmama
Summary: ...he’s been propped against the headboard, a pile of books and magazines on the table beside him, his laptop open, continuing the rigorous programme of research and revision he’s embarked upon in his effort to ensure Molly’s happiness and thereby his own...





	

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel to _[Incalculable](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9436625)_ , 450 words for the 'Rain' prompt at LJ's Sherlock100 community. 
> 
>  
> 
> ********************************

“What are you reading now?” murmurs Molly, a sleepy smile in her voice.

“ _ The Joy of Sex _ . It’s an older publication, but most of the material is still relevant, I believe.”

She chuckles and burrows her nose against his blanketed hip, and he absently strokes her hair, beautifully fanned out over her pillow.

She’s been sleeping the sleep of the justly exhausted these last couple of hours, while he’s been propped against the headboard, a pile of books and magazines on the table beside him, his laptop open, continuing the rigorous programme of research and revision he’s embarked upon in his effort to ensure Molly’s happiness and thereby his own.

Their first sexual encounter took place some twelve hours after the Sherrinford debriefing, but, due to his emotional state and lack of recent experience, he felt the event had been less than optimal. Too uncontrolled. Too quickly over to give Molly much satisfaction.  _ She _ had not complained, and the second endeavor had, admittedly, been an improvement. But a man of intelligence and energy, in his prime, and newly committed to what would probably be the most important relationship of his life, should be capable of real excellence. Instinct and his powers of deduction will only take him so far toward that goal.

Conveniently, it’s been pouring rain. Three solid days of winter storms, giving them all a respite. Work on his flat must wait; Mummy’s wrath need not be borne until Friday at least. The weather has literally put a damper on any outside activities, and since Molly’s been given a few days off, thanks to a word to Bart’s from Mycroft, there’s been no need to disrupt their idyll.

A flash at the edge of sight, an ominous rumble of thunder, and Sherlock’s attention strays from the tome in front of him as Molly cuddles closer, eyes wide.

“I was frightened of thunder, when I was a little girl,” she remarks, too casually.

He raises a brow. “As long ago as that?”

She flushes. “You might try to take my mind off it.”

“Perhaps. What do you think of this position?” He shows her the illustration he’s been studying.

She gives a tired, somewhat discouraged sigh.

He chuckles and sets the book aside. “Poor little Molly,” he says, with spurious sympathy, sliding down beside her, turning to her, rubbing his nose against hers.

“I’m not poor! I’m not! I’m not!” she insists in mock petulance.  And then she’s laughing beneath his kiss.

It’s long and sweet and infinitely better than anything he’s come across in his reading.

“Mmmm…” she murmurs against his lips, entranced, and when she finally can, says, “No, not poor after all. Not in the least.”

 

 

~.~


End file.
